Nothing in Common
by greencopperpenny
Summary: "Maybe- maybe we're really not all that different, you know?" "Yeah... Maybe we're both pretty fucking screwy." Rose cannot stand Scorpius Malfoy, whom she thinks is proud, arrogant, and downright cruel. And she would never agree they had anything in common, until...


By the end of the first semester of fourth year, I had become totally, completely, absolutely fed up with Scorpius Malfoy. After time and again fulfilling his duties as my tormenter, aggravator, and bane of my very existence, he had finally stepped over a line: he'd humiliated me.

It was Charms class, and he'd been sitting a table ahead of me, listening in to my conversation about holiday plans with Margot, a Slytherin with whom I was actually friendly with. Then of course he couldn't help himself, and insisted on dropping his snide remarks. Only, instead of the usual bickering to arguing to silent fuming, the argument really heated up. I could my lip practically twitching in its disgusted sneer. He was _that _pompous and _that _infuriating!

And then, the whole classroom suddenly silent, he'd clinched it: "At least I'll never have to question whether the friends I have or the job have been bought for me by Mummy or Daddy's _prestige. _You really think Margot here, or all of your little underclass admirers, or even your darling Linus Hastings find a bushy-haired, know-it-all geek all that interesting?" He paused, waiting for a reaction which I refused to give, before adding, "Have fun on your ski trip to Sweden with the Minister of Magic." After waiting a beat to see what I'd do, he turned around nonchalantly as if he hadn't said anything of distinction.

I hated- absolutely could not _stand _having my parents and privileges rubbed in my face. I was lucky, I knew, but I was grateful. And I'd earned my friends and grades and former boyfriend with my own merits. Yet as our professor chastised us before moving on in the lesson, I could feel myself turning beet red.

Why was I so embarrassed? I looked to Margot, wondering what her reaction would be. Her overly-innocent shrug left me feeling less than consoled.

The problem was that Scorpius was right. Too many people _did _only find me interesting because of my parents' notoriety. He'd tapped into one my greatest insecurities: if you took it all away- the fame, the respect, the wealth- what did I really have to offer? Was I even half as charming as I thought of myself as? As I wanted to be?

Term ended, but I found myself thinking of my skirmishes with Scorpius Malfoy frequently over the holiday break. More often than not, I'd end up teary eyed, unable to explain how someone so ridiculous could affect me so deeply. I was fourteen then, a time terribly in between childhood and adolescence. Seeking counsel with my parents still held appeal.

After stewing in my melancholy for the first four or so days of break, I'd finally become fed up enough to try to do something about it. I decided I'd ask my mother, as my father rarely had substantial advice when it came to interpersonal relationships (his biggest contributions in that department had been "Always say you're sorry, especially to your mother," and "If a boy doesn't get the message, never be afraid to use your wand. Or your fists.") I decided I'd bring it up at lunch the next day, when Hugo and Dad would be at a Quidditch match.

"Mum," I began, looking up at her over my nibbled-at grilled cheese. "Do you think you could help me with a boy problem?"

Her eyes lit up and she looked like she was trying not to smile. I knew I was in trouble.

"What sort of problem, dear?" she said, a little too knowingly.

"Mum! Not like that!"

She didn't look so convinced. "Alright, well, let's hear it, then."

I explained to her the feud and the arguing and dueling and eventually my latest humiliation, although without mentioning Scorpius' name. Her face shifted from amused to concerned to contemplative.

After a moment (during which I stared forlornly into my glass of pumpkin juice) she spoke. "Rose, it's taken me a long time to learn this, and perhaps it sounds counter-intuitive. But I've realized that often when we find someone completely obnoxious, or repugnant, it's because we see in them a trait that we fear we have ourselves. That is to say, our dislike often comes from personal insecurity."

I tried to hide the fact that I thought she was crazy. I never thought of myself as being insecure. After all, I was a Gryffindor, and I had the confidence to prove it. And I couldn't imagine my mother, the most accomplished witch on the face of the planet, ever being insecure about everything. And I would never, ever admit to having anything in common with someone so insufferable as Scorpius Malfoy. "I think I can understand that. But what should I do?"

She gave me a stern look. "I advise that you stop dueling in hallways." I knew this was really a command. Then she smiled. "The rest I think I ought to let you figure out for yourself. You know, you're really growing up, Rosie."

Parents. What are they even really good for after the diaper years?

I didn't come to understand my mother's words until I was in my sixth year. Through the years in between, my animosity towards Scorpius remained as strong as ever, although I _had _kept the dueling to a minimum in order to be a viable prefect candidate, which he and I both became in fifth year.

Which brings us to sixth year.

I along with a couple other students was on duty one night to patrol the castle to look for students out after curfew. I loved the night time rounds. The excitement of being out after dark, wandering the halls of an empty castle, never got old. I was walking around the fourth floor and was suddenly struck by an inexplicable urge to go to the library. Even by then, in early December of my sixth year, I had never gone to the library. But this was practical; the library doors were locked anyway, and the idea of anyone sneaking in at night to steal library books seemed rather unlikely.

Yet that night my body led my mind for once, and I found myself at the doors. I tried the handle. Locked. I tried an _alohomora _without thinking it'd really work. But then, the lock clicked and, heart beating, I stepped into the black library.

It was simultaneously eerie and calming to be in the library after hours. Usually the library was cozy to me. A haven. Now, the bookcases and ladders, ghostly highlighted by the moonlight through tall cathedral-like windows, seemed skeletal and looming. I walked around timidly at first, observing how my usual haunts looked different in the darkness.

I turned a corner and gasped. There, on the far end of the library, was a large spot of light. On the floor. Funny, I thought, as I hadn't intended on catching anybody here, and now I'd be docking points and giving detention to the unlucky victim of my strange whim.

As I wove my way through the shelves, I realized where the light was coming from: the Restricted Section. I myself had only been there once in my life for a Defence Against the Dark Arts assignment. I started to feel nervous. What sort of student snuck out late at night to read books in the Restricted Section? Probably a psycho. And now I was just going to trot on over and dole out a detention to this psychologically unstable, potentially evil, mystery person?

I knew I should have left right then. But my curiosity kept tugging me back as I started to leave. I had to know who it was, and what they were doing. Maybe it came from a desire to feel like I'd quashed some evildoer's plot, in some sort of kinship to my parents. Mostly I think it was because I was nosy, and felt gutsy after breaking into the library.

One row away however, I completely recognized who it was who sat in the light of a lantern.

"Scorpius?" I blurted aloud out of my surprise.

He jolted and looked up from his book. His look of surprise quickly turned into a grimace as he saw me.

"What the hell, Weasley. What are you doing here?"

"Prefect's rounds," I fibbed. "That's twenty points from Slytherin and a detention, Malfoy," I added as a cover. Also because I liked the idea of causing him woe.

He looked unphased. "Prefects can't dock points from other prefects, genius."

I scoffed, but couldn't deny he was right. "What are you even doing here, Malfoy?"

He sneered, and his sneer was this sort of devilish half-smile that always made me feel like a mouse caught in a trap. "I asked you first. The library is off-limits at night even to prefects."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, so in that case we're both breaking the rules. If you must know, I was just… exploring, I guess."

He gave a derisive laugh. "Only you would find a visit to the library a riveting experience. I honestly don't understand how you manage to make friends with such a boring personality, even _with _famous parents and wealth and prestige and-"

"Shut _up, _Malfoy!" Again his words had cut straight through to my most sensitive fears. I felt myself getting worked up. "I am so fucking sick of your- your- your _jealousy!_"

"Such a dirty mouth, Weasley. I'd have thought you'd have been raised with better manners, given your circumstances…" Then he snapped his book shut and walked until we were face to face, him looming down over me. His eyes seemed darker than normal. "And don't you _ever _insinuate that I would be jealous of anything about you again." His expression was so fierce that I felt scared. My hands went clammy. I put them on my hips in the hopes that the pose would inspire confidence.

"Fine. So long as you never again suggest that my relationships, career, grades, and so on are bought by any of the things you so generously attribute to my parents."

His arms folded. "Or what? You'll sue me with your parents' lawyers?"

"Shut up," I hissed through gritted teeth.

"You'll write to Mummy and Daddy and tell them all about how that evil Malfoy boy is being cruel to you? And how dare he make a Weasley feel inferior!" His words oozed with bitter sarcasm. The nerve of him! To criticize the ilk of the sacred Ron and Hermione-"

"Shut _up."_

"-two thirds of the holy trinity of the entire Wizarding World? You poor baby!" His voice was nearing shrill and his usually smooth, aristocratic features were twisted with anger. "You, who was born and raised to become a hero, Hogwarts' prissy perfect princess. Oh, detention for the whole class! Oh, but not for you, Rose. We understand you're under a lot of pressure right now. Your homework is a three foot paper on the Summoning Charm, class. Oh, but just one foot for you, Rosie, darling. I know you've got an awards ceremony to attend-"

"Shut _up!_" I nearly screamed. "Just shut the hell up!"

Instinctively we raised our wands, glaring at one another. He was nearly shaking with anger and energy, breathing too heavy to speak. I had never looked into his eyes so long. It was unnerving. His eyes were so much more expressive than I'd ever noticed before; I could visibly see the anger in them, vehemence, and- sadness?

Breathing heavy, we both slowly lowered our wands, but we each kept our eyes on the other's. I took a deep breath, waiting for my heart beat to relax.

"Do you think it's easy?" I said finally, back at normal volume but not hiding my agitation. "Living up to expectations that are- are impossible! My parents helped defeat the most evil wizard of all times- people expect me to be great. To be better than great. To be my parents, multiplied. But the truth is I am just not as good! I am not as smart or as driven or as flat out good!"

"Oh, yeah, it's so terrible," he said, his voice grotesquely sardonic. "People expect you to be something brilliant. At least people don't avoid you because they're afraid of you. People who don't even know me give me dirty looks, and why? Because of something my father did when he was a teenager. And it was terrible, yes, I admit it! But I never did it! I can't help it! And you have never experienced getting a letter from your best mate saying you can't stay at his house one summer, because his parents didn't want you rubbing off on him. Kids don't spit at you. You never have to prove yourself. People expect amazing things from you? How fucking sad." But now he looked much less angry, and much more somber.

"Stop feeling so sorry for yourself, Malfoy. You've already proved everyone wrong. Despite being arrogant as- as- fuck, people know that you're smart and you're going to be successful! And you get to laugh at people who spit at you for being fucking hypocrites- for judging someone based on the prejudices of his father. Me? I'm the one getting tabloid titles like 'Daughter of Weasleys- Failing Transfiguration?' And when professors talk to me, especially the ones who know my parents, they always look so- so pitying. Well, you know what, Malfoy? I've proved everyone wrong, too: I'm a complete failure."

I never imagined I'd ever be confessing my most intimate feelings to Scorpius Malfoy. We looked at each other a moment. I tried to gauge his expression but couldn't.

"You're failing Transfiguration?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

In that moment I felt all the anger and frustration leave me. Suddenly I just felt tired.

"Shut up, Malfoy. In case it wasn't abundantly obvious, I am in no mood for you to gloat." I was so ready for this conversation to be over, so ready to just walk straight to my dorm, crawl into bed, and fall fast asleep.

"Fuck, Weasley, I didn't mean it like that. I just- I'm surprised, is all."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," I remarked flatly.

"What I meant is that you're actually smart, you moron. How the fuck are you failing Transfiguration? You Vanished my left shoe the other day!"

I took a deep breath and sighed. "Which, of course, is your fault for taking off your shoes in the fucking library, you pretentious piece of- whatever. But if you must know, I'm failing because I never turn anything in, alright?" Why again was I explaining this to him?

"Cry for help, much?" He raised an eyebrow and his mouth twitched into a little smile.

"Oh, screw this, Malfoy. I don't have to stand here and take this." I turned around and began to storm away until I felt his hand around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

"Wait, Weasley. Look. I'm sorry about all the shit I said." Was that… honesty in his voice? Was his speech for once in his life free of bitterness and sarcasm?

I looked at him, and realized I hadn't noticed how disheveled he looked. He was still dressed in his school clothes, except his shirt was untucked and his pants were wrinkled. He had bags under his eyes and his cheeks looked especially hollow in the lamplight. The pang of pity I felt in that moment led me to say, "Yeah, I s'pose I'm sorry, too." And afterwards, I felt good, because I knew it was true. I felt awful for yelling at him, awful for letting him to get to me and reveal such ugliness inside myself.

"Maybe- maybe we're really not all that different, you know?" His eyes were locked on mine again. I searched them and could find no emotion besides fear.

"Yeah…" I said slowly, suddenly aware that his fingers were still wrapped around my wrist. I could feel my pulse beating against them. "Maybe we're both pretty fucking screwy."

"I'd vouch for that."

He grinned, then I grinned. Or maybe I grinned, then he grinned. Either way we were grinning rather curiously at each other. Even without any tangible evidence- no hexes were slung, no punches were thrown- something had just _happened. _There had been a great shift between us. It was so strange; suddenly I was seeing him a completely different way. He'd always been unsavory to me- a jerk, proud, arrogant, petty and cruel. But now I saw him as much more complicated than that. He was just as stuck in his parent's shadow as I was. And he wasn't proud. Not at all. In fact, he was… ashamed. I felt another pang of pity towards him.

And my mother's old words suddenly rang true to me: he _was _similar to me, in so many ways. In a lot of unflattering ways. I had hated him for his arrogance, for the way he would assume so much about my feelings and my life. I had hated his scathing wit because it could cut so deeply so quickly. I now understood: Scorpius Malfoy saw right through me… because he was a lot like me.

I felt dizzy. It takes a lot out of you to make these sort of breakthrough perspective changes about your sworn enemy. I leaned back against a shelf.

"You're still the most arrogant piece of shite on this side of the prime meridian," I said quietly, but teasingly instead of insultingly, as I had the first time I'd thrown the insult at him. "I don't want you to think you've lost that title."

He smiled, a real, honest to god smile. I felt my heartbeat pick up again, and blushed at the realization that this time it wasn't caused by angry adrenaline. "And I'd still vote you most likely to be Head of the Department for Freakish Hags with Rods Up Their Asses."

"Aw, you really mean that?" I put my hand on my chest and batted my eyelashes. And realized as the blood rushed to my ears that I, Rose Weasley, was maybe-something-like flirting with Scorpius Malfoy, in our own strange, passive aggressive way. And I kind of like d that.

"I'd never joke about that."

We watched each other, soaking in the moment and enjoying the joke.

It was strange because for the first time ever it felt like we were _friends._

* * *

><p>"I hate this. I hate this. I really, really hate this."<p>

"Well, Weasley, if you'd done the homework instead of deciding you'd rather submerge yourself in your own self-pity," I swatted his arm but he was unphased, "you'd know how to do it."

I pressed my lips together in a thin line and raised an eyebrow. But he was right, of course. The more time I spent with Scorpius, the more I saw how clearly he saw me, how astute his observations were, even when they were disguised by sarcasm or humor. A week after our encounter, we were in the library, again, only this time in the light of day. We'd somehow come to an agreement in which Scorpius would teach me what I had failed to master in Transfiguration if I didn't report catching him in the library after hours (which, upon looking up in the Official Hogwarts Prefects' Handbook was fair game for detention). Only, we both knew I wouldn't have reported him anyways. It was still hard to wrap my head around our growing friendship, and how quickly we went from bitter enemies to easy, though new, friends.

Sometime during the week- because we, for some unknown reason, had run into each other more times in seven days than the past three months (or maybe we'd simply stopped going out of our way to avoid one another)- he'd revealed his chronic insomnia, and how the Restricted Section felt like the most private place to ride out a sleepless night.

Now we shared a table in one of the library's many nooks, practicing spells on each other. Except really he was practicing spells on me, claiming it was the best way to teach.

Which explains why my eyebrows were blue.

"Do you think we could start the part of the lesson where you actually teach me instead of continuing to mutate my face?"

He tried to stifle a laugh but couldn't.

"What?"

He smirked. "It's just that your blue eyebrows look ridiculous in that expression."

I made a face at him. "_Crinus muto!_"

He winced. "Well?"

My hand flew to my mouth. "I've done it! Scorpius, I did it! I did it! I really did it!"

I clutched his face in my hands and pulled it down closer so he was facing the table, in order to investigate my handiwork. His eyebrows were indeed purple, although I tried to hide my reaction to the small segment of his right brow I'd singed.

"I can't believe it! I really did it!"

I felt him laugh in my hands. "Congratulations."

I pulled his head back and retracted my hands, but he surprised me and grabbed my wrists. He leaned in close and I felt my face flush and he whispered:

_"__I __know you burned my eyebrow."_

Then he kissed me, and I learned we had one more thing in common: attraction.

So ends the story of how two people, once sworn enemies, came to learn they were much better off as friends. And then something else.

(The End.)

* * *

><p>AN: I've missed this place. I also keep writing things much longer than I intend them to be. Hello, longest one-shot I've ever written. Nice to meet you.

PLEASE REVIEW!

Hope you liked it and happy new year and thanks for reading.

GCP


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